Somewhere between love and hate
by SixFoldDimension
Summary: ...lies confusion, misunderstanding and desperate hope.
1. 4am

**A/N:** _A collection of KaguHibi drabbles. The only connection between each drabble is that they are all KaguHibi. Feel free to leave a prompt idea in the comments!_

* * *

It was rare for him to be up earlier than his fussy assistant, and even less the sun itself – yet there Kagura Mutsuki was, lying awake before the peak hours of dawn, resting but not quite sleeping. There was a warm area carved out from the empty space between his arm and torso which Hibiki Kohaku filled. Awake, the assassin had always carried an air of sharp confidence about him that offset his tiny stature – but asleep, Kagura realized, he seemed a lot smaller. His arms and legs were curled, tangled, and nestled into Kagura's; his breathing was soft and even. When Kagura shifted his arm, he did not stir.

His body felt uncomfortably hot from a combination of the heavy blankets, Hibiki, and a shirt he had not quite shrugged off last night, but the quiet sight before him stopped Kagura from moving any further. He noticed three things: one, that Hibiki's dark hair, usually neat and immaculately brushed, was now scattered as soft locks across his forehead and fanned onto the white mattress like feathers; two, that his lips were very slightly parted and pushed out into a natural pout; and three, he was crying again.

Kagura felt rush of ice course down through his veins when he noticed the third detail, although his body did not actually feel cooler. He wanted to wake the younger man up immediately and demand answers – but another part of him, a part that understood Hibiki Kohaku better than that and reminded him that waking him up would only make things worse, forced him to lie still. Other than the constant stream of tears sliding down his cheeks, it did not seem like Hibiki was in any form of distress. His delicate, graceful features remained entirely neutral.

Instead, Kagura moved his arm and carefully – _carefully!_ – wrapped it around him, his hand resting on the back of Hibiki's head. The assassin exhaled once, and then his breathing became steady. He slowly pulled him closer. Soon, his cheek was pressed into Kagura's neck.

 _What could you be thinking again?_

There was no reason to ask that question in the morning, because he knew the answer would be the same. He would wake, blink a few times, and not know what Kagura was talking about. His assistant could be lying, of course – but there was something about the puzzled stare that he gave him that convinced Kagura he wasn't.

The tears stopped after a few moments and in several minutes they dried up as if they never appeared. Dawn was breaking over the horizon outside; Kagura could tell by how the walls of the room were getting lighter and lighter with swatches of red and orange and yellow, and by the chorus of birds echoing from the distance. From this position, he could feel Hibiki wake up before he heard him speak.

"...Lord Kagura...?"

Hibiki turned his head slightly, squinting at the man beside him. Kagura looked back at him, willing with all his might for the traces of tiredness and worry to wash away with his smile.

"Morning, Hibiki."


	2. If you were the dish

He has already rehearsed this several times. All of last night and all of this morning – he has already rehearsed it so many times that it is almost indecent, because the speech wasn't very long or very important and he has rehearsed far less for things that are far more important than this. So, why is Kagura still feeling so nervous?

He mutters his speech under his breath as he slowly, slowly makes his way down the stairs and into their shared office, so slowly and deliberately that it almost seems he is trying to avoid something – but that cannot be the case, because if he wanted to avoid this he would not have come downstairs in the first place. Kagura reminds himself again that this is his choice. He keeps moving forward.

Soon he finds silhouette he is searching for, standing by the windowsill. Hibiki is drawing open the curtains; sunlight spills on his face, and he turns away to find Kagura.

"Lord Kagura?" he says with mild surprise. "How rare. I did not expect you to be up so early."

"But… this is the time I'm supposed to be ready for work, Hibiki," he reminds him.

"Yes, well… what is supposed to be and what actually is are far often two separate things when it comes to you, sir." Hibiki's sighs and tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear, but his eyes glint with mischief. Kagura wonders if he enjoys insulting him a little too much.

"Well. I'm here." Kagura moves in closer, undeterred. His heart rate increases, but it is not betrayed in his face or actions. He stops when they are only inches apart from one another. Hibiki looks uncomfortable, but he stands his ground and watches Kagura with puzzlement.

"...Sir?" Hibiki asks after a while, because Kagura was not speaking.

Kagura takes a deep breath; it is time for his rehearsal to pay off. He places his hand over Hibiki's and curls his fingers against his gloved palm.

"Hibiki," he starts, and Hibiki snaps his attention back up, looking rather shocked. "I need you to hear me out now, because… well, I don't think I could ever say this twice. Don't be too surprised, alright?"

"Alright…?" Hibiki's voice is apprehensive, and it is clear he has no idea what Kagura is about to say. Kagura lowers his gaze and focuses on their joined hands.

"It's been a long time, you know. I think it's always been like this." Hibiki furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and Kagura realizes that he has skipped several lines. He backtracks quickly. "I mean – there's something I've been thinking about for a long time! Well, sort of. I've only really noticed it now, but… maybe you already know what I'm talking about."

Hibiki looks at him blankly before the implications seem to dawn on him; his face blanches even as his cheeks glow red. "L-Lord Kagura – "

"Hold on, let me finish. I can't tell you how many nights I've lost sleep over this. I can't drink myself out of it either, which I'm sure you'll be glad to hear – " He says this in good humor, but Hibiki only appears more flustered, " – so I have to come clean with you, here and now. Hibiki, I…"

The words die before they pass his lips as his courage fails him. Hibiki looks embarrassed. "Sir, you don't have to say anymore, this is too soon…" he begins to murmur, but Kagura cuts him off again.

"No, I'm going to say it! Hibiki, I…!" Why is this so difficult? "I… um. Well. I, I love… I love y…"

Hibiki breath hitches as he stands waiting, looking every part the bashful confessee. He is also looking at their hands now, and his blush deepens.

And then Kagura flubs it.

"I love your fried chicken with ankake sauce!"

He declares it with utmost confidence.

There is a long stretch of silence as they both comprehend what he said. Kagura's expression grows with dawning horror; Hibiki's flattens with confusion and unamusement.

"I see. I can make it tonight's dinner if you like, Lord Kagura," he says dryly. Before Kagura can stop him, he eases himself from the window and walks away.

From that day forth, Kagura does not rehearse things anymore.


	3. The reason you'll be late

"Right… I'm off, then."

Hibiki saw from the periphery of his vision that Kagura had shifted from behind his desk, pushed himself out of his chair and was stretching. After a moment, his body relaxed and he picked up the travel documents that were already neatly arranged for him in a manilla envelope, weighing the contents; even without looking directly at him, Hibiki could tell that Kagura's face had twisted into a grimace. _That isn't the heaviest workload you've ever gotten before, sir, and it's hardly half the average of mine_ – Hibiki had wanted to say something along those lines, but he quashed the temptation.

"Did you want me to see you off, sir?" Hibiki asked without looking up from his own paperwork.

"No, I'll manage on my own. You look like you're still busy." Kagura checked the clock on their wall with an exhale, running his fingers through his hair, and thumbed through documents that Hibiki had prepared for him. "How long am I going to be out again? One week?"

"Two weeks," he corrected. "You're always a little too optimistic when it comes to estimating how soon you will be finished with work, and you know how negotiations are. I would come with you, Lord Kagura, but someone will need to keep this place running while you're gone. Perhaps we should consider ourselves lucky that it will be the same person who's always done it."

Kagura made an annoyed little sound at the intended barb and Hibiki smiled, if not outwardly then at least somewhere inside him – until he heard the distinct clinking of bottles and noticed that Kagura had wandered to the liquor cabinets and was stashing the drinks into his pockets surreptitiously –

Hibiki was before him in an instant and ripped the bottles from Kagura's hands and pockets. "Really, sir?"

"What, I can't even drink anymore?"

"You are on a _business_ trip. If you must have a drink, then do it _after_ you have everything settled." Hibiki placed the bottles back into their glass cabinets, one by one; he was sorely tempted to throw them out the window, but there was no reason to do that now when he could wait until after Kagura departed and dispose of them more sensibly.

"Illyria doesn't _have_ anything to drink!" Kagura argued, waving his arms in a way that conveyed abject horror. "They have tea, sure, but I don't think they sell alcohol anywhere I'm staying! Trust me, I checked the last time I was there."

"Then do your job sober for once," Hibiki suggested dryly. He slammed the cabinets closed with an air of finality while Kagura grumbled.

Hibiki allowed himself an internal sigh, now that he was already distracted from his work; maybe he should be going with him and forget the chaos that would be left behind – but they both knew that was not an option, so there was no use dwelling it. Hibiki instead fixed Kagura's collar which had somehow bent into itself, realizing with a small note of regret that this would be the last time he could fix Kagura's appearance (and thus impression) before he was off making diplomatic relations for two weeks in the Kingdom of Illyria, which was said to be ruled by an moral and dignified leader. The Lord Mutsuki was charming in many rights, as Hibiki knew better than anybody else, but a conservative moralist might not see it that way.

"Thanks, Hibiki," Kagura said awkwardly after he was done straightening out his clothes.

"You're welcome. Do try to keep yourself presentable while I'm gone, lest the negotiations fail when the Illyrian guards mistake you for a drunken sex offender instead of the head of the Duodecim, Lord Kagura."

Kagura rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright! And I've already said that you can stop with calling me 'sir' and 'lord' – we're a little bit closer than that, don't you think?"

The statement was punctuated with an obvious wink, but Hibiki did not react in the slightest and smiled. "Understood, Lord Kagura."

Kagura made a noise that sounded like something halfway between a scoff and a groan, but he did not press on. They both stood there for a moment in silence. Neither of them moved; Hibiki was waiting for Kagura to leave so he could pour his liquor down the drain, while Kagura was waiting for… oh.

Hibiki reacted a little bit, then, glancing shyly at the closed door and then back to Kagura, where he was standing upright with an expectant, quirked half-grin. Hibiki knew he would wait until he got what he wanted, never mind the flight that was scheduled in thirty minutes – and he _was_ going to be leaving for almost half a month so it wasn't like Hibiki minded, not that he normally minded to begin with –

Hibiki leaned forward very slightly, resting both palms on Kagura's chest and standing on the tips of his toes, lips parted gently…

There was no contact. Hibiki lifted his head up, craning his neck – there was still no contact. He cracked his eyes open slowly, confused, and saw that Kagura was still standing upright, a full head taller than him, amusement etched on his face and his shoulders shaking from barely-contained laughter. A hot sensation bubbled up from his core and Hibiki suddenly wanted very much to slap the man across the face like he'd seen countless women do, or break one of the liquor bottles over his head.

He launched himself away from Kagura instead in a huff, turning away to conceal the redness of his cheeks while Kagura broke out laughing. "Amusing, Kagura. Now go."

"S-sorry, Hibiki, I didn't mean it, really – I didn't think you'd actually go for it – but that was cute, you really are too short – in a cute way, I mean, pffffffha ha ha ha ha!"

"You're going to be late. _Go._ "

"Ah, you're mad now – hehehe – wait, I'm sorry, Hibiki – "

He _was_ mad. "Are you deaf now on top of being dumb? Go or you will miss your flight, because I will not schedule another one for you!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going…"

Hibiki refused to look back, even as he heard Kagura sweep his jacket off of the coat hanger and fumble with his keys. He waited to hear the sounds of the door opening and footsteps moving away, but that did not happen and he instead felt Kagura's presence lingering around, standing directly behind him. Hibiki steeled himself and prepared _scream_ at him, time really was running out now – but then Kagura had grasped his shoulders, whirling him around.

"What – " he started, but his words were cut off abruptly when Kagura's mouth pressed against his own in one swift motion (Hibiki realized how predictable this was in hindsight, but he had still been caught surprised), his back bent over to reach Hibiki – and when he tried speaking, Kagura closed the gap between their lips in a lover's kiss, tilting his head forward even as Hibiki tilted back – and the rest was lost in the heat of frantic passion and dancing tongues.

Too soon – _not soon enough,_ Hibiki corrected himself – did Kagura pull away. Hibiki stayed in place, feeling dazed on his feet.

"See you in two weeks, Hibiki," Kagura breathed. He peered up at the clock again and did a double-take. "Aw shit, I really am gonna be late if I don't run this – hey, I gotta go. Don't miss me too hard, alright?"

Kagura gave one more swift peck on the lips and hurried off, swinging the door behind him and not quite getting it closed, while Hibiki continued standing there with a hand raised to his lips. The resulting ambience was not silent yet – he could still hear Kagura stomping around the garage and starting the engine on his vehicle – but the man's absence had been enough to kickstart Hibiki's thought process, and he was having very mixed feelings. There was the sound of a motorcycle tearing down the street at probably-illegal speeds while Hibiki's arms and shoulders trembled. He curled, then uncurled, and then curled his hands into fists, not sure what he wanted to do now because he couldn't do anything to the person whom he most wanted to do things to – whether that was to kiss or kill him, he still couldn't decide –

The roaring of the motorcycle disappeared much too quickly to make any sense, or maybe Hibiki was just refusing to make sense of it because if Kagura was really driving that fast he might just get a heart attack. The conflicting drives inside his chest were overlapping one another, waxing and waning, furling and unfurling; but there was no decision to be made. The minutes dragged on.

Finally, he marched toward the cabinets, dumped the bottles on the floor, and threw them out the window.


	4. Post-script (Pt1)

The meeting was boring, unbelievably boring, and it was more so than usual because on top of being boring, it was also pointless – that was all that was running through Kagura's mind as the 168th meeting of the Duodecim and noble families dragged on and _on_ , seemingly to no end. The topic on hand was something about rules and public image, or something equally unimportant along those lines, and nothing that Kagura cared about in the least. He had stopped paying attention to the meeting several minutes ago and was now staring obviously at the clock on the wall. He was trying to figure out what was _wrong_ with it, because the more he watched it, the slower it seemed to move.

Somebody was talking loudly about public discipline and setting personal examples; if it was being directed at him, Kagura paid no attention. Among those at the meeting were Jin and Tsubaki, both of them representatives for their families and both sitting several paces away from where he was sitting; the rest of the Duodecim representatives, save for the Hazuki family whose heir had gone missing a few years back; a few cloaked members of the Zero Squadrons as stand-ins for the Imperator; and Hibiki, of course, who Kagura insisted on bringing to every one of these tedious meetings, either to keep him focused or to take the notes himself. Unfortunately, they had gotten separated earlier on during seating and now his secretary was sitting to the left of the seat across from the table – close enough so that he could see him, but not nearly close enough for Kagura to lean over and whisper-ask what was going on every five minutes. Hibiki seemed to be watching the speaker, although his hands were moving quickly over the notepad in his lap and taking notes with impossible speed and technique. (To be more specific, he was writing with both hands at the same time. A few of people sitting next to Hibiki were sneaking awed glances, but Kagura had already seen him do it enough times that it registered normal.)

Kagura not-very-quietly sighed and propped his head on his hand. He stared forward, slack-jawed. If the Mutsuki family were anything but the head of the Duodecim, and if the Zero Squadron weren't watching his back like a pair of hawks, then nothing would have convinced him not to skip this meeting – if Hibiki nagged him for it, he would have told him to take his cloak and pretend to be Kagura Mutsuki for the day. As it stood, however, his family _was_ at the top and the Squadron _was_ watching him, so there was no choice – ouch.

Kagura's hand flew to his forehead automatically, touching the place where he had felt the sudden sting. There was nothing there. When he looked down, he noticed a white square: a note, folded and compressed several times into a dense cube. Kagura narrowed his eyes, held it underneath the table, and carefully unfolded.

 _At least try to appear that you are paying attention. You look like you could hardly try less._

He recognized Hibiki's handwriting immediately, even before he comprehended the words. When he looked up, he noticed that Hibiki was now writing with just his right hand, although it did not appear that he had broken concentration even once. Kagura scratched his chin and smiled a bit despite himself. Flattening the note on the table, Kagura wrote:

 _THIS IS BORING. WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?_

He failed in folding the note exactly the way that Hibiki had done, so he eventually just crumpled the entire thing into an unceremonious lump. When it seemed like nobody was looking, Kagura flicked it at Hibiki.

He couldn't see when Hibiki caught it, but he noticed when the younger man's dark bangs dipped down as he unravelled the paper and read the note. If Hibiki's expression changed, Kagura could not detect it from where he was sitting. Soon the note was back in his lap, and he was trying to open it again with as little noise as possible.

 _They are discussing proper behavior for a member of the Duodecim. Perhaps you should listen?  
Though I must agree, this is getting tedious._

The last sentence read like a tacked-on afternote, and Kagura could imagine precisely the note of exasperation that Hibiki would have said it with if they had been talking face-to-face. He took it as a cue. If Hibiki was inviting him to discuss anything, then…

 _WHAT'S FOR DINNER TONIGHT?_

He couldn't think of anything else to put down, but at least that would keep his thoughts occupied for a while. Kagura threw the crumpled note and watched as Hibiki reopened it and scribbled something down. It came back to him with a graceful flick of the wrist.

 _I don't feel like saying. If you are going to request something anyway, tell me what you want now._

Kagura furrowed his eyebrows. If this was Hibiki's way of asking what he wanted, it sure came off impertinent. Though to be frank, he did have something in mind, so he wrote it down.

 _SURE. WHAT ABOUT THAT SPICY PASTA DISH YOU DID LAST MONTH?_

Hibiki's next response took a couple of minutes. When the paper finally came back to him, Kagura was surprised with a wall of ingredients that took up nearly all the rest of the page, presumably to describe the pasta dish. At the end, Hibiki had tacked on another note:

 _Spaghetti alla Puttanesca – Is this the one you wanted? If this turns out to be your new favorite dish by the way, I will find it ironic._

Kagura read the ingredients over a few times and didn't get the joke, but it seemed like the right dish – not that he would know for sure, as he wasn't allowed in the kitchen until Hibiki was done cooking anyway.

 _DETAILED. THAT SOUNDS RIGHT. CAN YOU DO IT?_

The note came back much more quickly this time.

 _I don't know. It is not as if I cook for you every day or anything. Why, can't you?_

* * *

 **A/N:** A two-part drabble, I know. Pt.2 will be in Hibiki's POV!

*Spaghetti alla Puttanesca is an Italian pasta dish that literally translates to "spaghetti in the style of a prostitute," or "spaghetti the way a whore would make it." Fitting for Kagura, maybe?


	5. Post-script (Pt2)

_I don't know. It is not as if I cook for you every day or anything. Why, can't you?_

Hibiki still wasn't sure how it spiralled down so quickly – he probably shouldn't have let it get so out of hand, it was admittedly a moment of weakness – but after he penned that tongue-in-cheek message at Kagura, all pretense of meaningful communication had collapsed. He slowed and eventually stopped taking notes altogether so that they could continue their note-passing. The only saving grace was that at least it was more entertaining than the meeting they was supposed to be listening to.

 _SMARTASS. MAYBE IF YOU TEACH ME HOW TO DO IT. AM I ALLOWED BACK IN THE KITCHEN?_

 _That depends. Are you willing to don a frilly pink apron? If the answer is no, then no._

 _CAN I WEAR A COOL MANLY APRON INSTEAD?_

 _No._

 _STINGY. THEN ARE WE JUST NOT HAVING DINNER TONIGHT? WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO COOK FOR ME ANYMORE?_

 _I was trying to teach you some independence, but clearly it's not working. I'll cook dinner for you if you can finish your paperwork on time tonight._

 _DONE AND DONE. NOT THAT YOU WILL FORGET TO COOK ME DINNER ANYWAYS._

 _Oh, I won't be "forgetting." I suppose I will just have more free time tonight._  
 _Are you even taking notes for this meeting?_

 _NO, BUT I GOT YOU TO DO THAT. THANK YOU, YOU'RE THE BEST!_

 _I ought to tear up all these notes right now just for that. Are you a five year old? You certainly have enough talent in being obnoxious like one._

 _YOU'RE CUTE HIBIKI. YOU HAVE ENOUGH TALENT IN BEING CUTE._

 _I can still throw this pen at you from our distance and make it hurt. I could probably do it so that nobody else notices, too._

 _THAT'S IT, YOU ARE FIRED._

 _Very well, Lord Kagura. Do I need to fill out my own dismissal form, or can you manage it on your own? I don't mind teaching you, but you will have to wear the apron._

 _CHEEKY. WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO WEAR THAT THING? THE APRON LOOKS WAY BETTER ON YOU._

 _Maybe you should try and see what it feels like to parade around in that outfit. It's not like I mind personally, but you should try to expand your field of empathy anyway._  
 _You shouldn't stare or make indecent comments when someone is cooking your dinner. That was the reason you were banned from the kitchen, by the way._

 _BUT WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT IF YOU CAN'T LOOK?_

 _Nothing insane like keeping your clothes clean while you're working in the kitchen, surely. You must be completely mad to suggest something ridiculous like that._

 _EXACTLY. YOU SHOULD WEAR A MAID OUTFIT SOMETIME FOR ME._

 _Of course. I shall make sure to purchase an extra-skimpy one with high stockings, and then wear nothing underneath it._  
 _(No, keep it in your pants.)_

 _CAN I KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS INSTEAD?_

 _If you think you can fit your size into my pants. I doubt it, though._

 _I CAN DO MY BEST FOR YOU, YOU'D BE SURPRISED._  
 _ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH ME PRETTY BOY?_

That was the note that finally gave Hibiki pause as he became aware of, with growing self-consciousness, what he had written and how Kagura had read it. Sure enough when he looked up, Kagura gave him the pistol and a wink – a stupid gesture he did from time to time where he pointed with both hands shaped like a gun and make a clicking sound with his tongue – and Hibiki had a small choking fit. He bit his cursed tongue (although it was technically his fingers that had betrayed him) and looked away.

It was at this point that he probably should have remembered there was a meeting going on and they really shouldn't be passing notes like pair of grade schoolers, but instead what Hibiki did was hastily jot down a reply, the first that came to mind:

If I was, wouldn't you be the first to know? Mr. King of Flirtations?

Hibiki tossed the note back before he realized that there was no other way to interpret it besides flirting and tried, in a fit of bad judgement, tried to grab it mid air even as it travelled to Kagura's half of the room.

"Excuse me for a second – can you two NOT?"

The sharp, familiar voice of Jin Kisaragi rang through the meeting room and everybody turned toward their direction, where Kagura was stopped in the middle of opening the note and Hibiki was half-off his chair with his upper torso stretched across the table. Hibiki quickly seated himself, setting his hands firmly in his lap and trying to recall if there had ever been a more mortifying moment in his young life; he could hear Kagura snickering while he gave a few words of apology for the disturbance.

The meeting continued on. After five solid minutes of trying and failing to understand what they were discussing now, Hibiki decided to just copy down everything that was being said word-for-word – not that it would be useful when he had to review the notes, but it gave him something to do other than wallow in his shame. He immersed himself into the mindless task until he no longer comprehended the words the words he was scribbling.

A crumpled wad of paper landed on his lap. Kagura couldn't be serious about this.

 _LET'S CONTINUE THIS LATER._

That was all that he wrote. Hibiki hesitated. Finally, he penned a reply – just four letters. Instead of throwing it back, he folded the note in half, then in half again, and slid it in his pocket.

 _Fine._


	6. Painstaken

In hindsight, maybe Hibiki should have held back a little more. There was much work to do, so he couldn't afford to lose their confrontation – time could always heal up Kagura's wounds, but not his reputation as a layabout – yet even Hibiki felt a twinge of regret as he watched his boss limp on one leg with angry gashes all over his body, several of which were directly and indirectly inflicted by Hibiki himself. Kagura had grumbled the entire trip back, which Hibiki ignored; regardless of how he was feeling, he wasn't about to show weakness until after they made it to the office.

Still, maybe he should have held back a little more.

"Ah - ah - ah…" Kagura winced as he eased into his seat. He rolled up a leg of his pants to show off a collection of scrapes and open cuts, looking up with an accusing expression that was missed by his assistant; Hibiki was already making his way to the medicine cabinet.

He returned with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, ointment, and several rolls of bandages. Kagura actually flinched when Hibiki uncapped the bottle and poured a liberal amount on a piece of medical cloth.

"I'll take care of that," Kagura muttered, grabbing the cloth himself. Hibiki slowly furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the man begin dabbing the open wounds with considerable care – and time. After a minute of watching the painstakingly slow process, Hibiki opened the bottle again and poured the alcohol over Kagura's leg.

There was a strangled yelp and a string of colorful language from his lord, but Hibiki paid no attention and moved for the other leg.

"Stop! Damn it, stop – don't you dare!" Kagura covered his other leg, gritting his teeth.

"It's nothing but a quick sting. You're dragging this out unnecessarily and making it more painful than it has to be, Lord Kagura," Hibiki said mildly. He tipped the liquid on his leg again while looking Kagura directly in the eye.

"You're really messed up in the head, Hibiki…" he hissed. "You do know all this is because of you, right?"

"You were sloppier than usual today," said Hibiki, "and no, that's not entirely correct. Do you see this one here? You tripped and got this wound without my doing anything. Unbelievable, sir."

That comment succeeded in keeping Kagura's griping under his breath for the rest of his treatment. Hibiki worked quickly with the ointment and bandaging. When he was done, Kagura sported three gauze wrappings over his legs and several small bandages all over his body.

"Did I miss anywhere, sir?" asked Hibiki as he collected all of the medical equipment on the floor.

Kagura flexed his right hand and grimaced. "Well… everything looks good, except this. There's a bruise."

Hibiki took his hand and inspected it; there was a small bluish-purple discoloration on Kagura's knuckle, but… "It doesn't look very serious. Don't bandage it – you'll need to use that hand for work, after all."

"Seriously? Hibiki, this hand is killing me here!" he groaned.

Hibiki bit down the quip that had sprung to his mind and just sighed. After some thought, he pulled Kagura's hand closer and bent down to kiss the abused knuckle – a kiss as light as a feather, brief and gentle.

"You'll be fine," he said.

Hibiki didn't miss Kagura's gaping reaction as he walked back to the medicine cabinet – he smirked privately when he had his back turned against him, taking slightly longer than he normally would to put back the kit – but he set on a neutral expression when he faced him again. Kagura was now sporting a wolfish grin and watching Hibiki with a calculating look from behind his desk.

"I notice you have not started your paperwork yet," Hibiki remarked.

"Yeah, well," Kagura hummed, rubbing his chin in thought, "I think there's a cut on my lip. Think you could get that for me?"

Hibiki rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched. He was probably going to regret this, but –

"There," he murmured, pressing another sweet kiss to Kagura's lips. He drew back and gestured at the stack of paper on their desk. "Now if you think you're ready, we do have work to do…"

"You know, I'm also feeling pretty sore down there – "

* * *

In hindsight, maybe Hibiki should have held back a little more. There was much work to do, so he couldn't afford to lose their confrontation – time could always heal up Kagura's wounds, but not his reputation as a layabout – yet even Hibiki felt a twinge of regret as he watched his boss massage the new red hand-shaped mark and paper cuts on his face –


	7. 4am (2)

"...I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

 _He whispers those words under his breath, mechanically, over and over, until they lose their meaning and become part of the noise in the background and join the steady hum of the air conditioning unit. Before him, his lord – his_ former _lord – lies on the floor, crumpled; he is sprawled out, arms outstretched, looking so animated and full of life without even moving. It is almost as if he is still alive, passed out once again from an alcohol-induced stupor… except for the pool of red which grows from underneath his body. Five minutes later, and Kagura is still bleeding._

 _The entire time, he stands and watches him bleed out. His body is filled with electricity; his body is filled with lead. He feels shock. He feels awe. He feels regret. He feels nothing. Eventually, the swell of thoughts and emotions which had pooled up begin to recede into the emptiness. He feels nothing._

 _"So… you followed your dream in the end."_

 _The one calling himself Hazama from Intelligence appears from behind. His jet-colored coat tail swishes behind him; his squinted eyes betray nothing._

 _"I doubted you would go through with it. Congratulatio – "_

 _He does not finish his words before his blood joins Kagura's. Hibiki leaves his corpse on the floor with no reverence and stands over his former lord._

 _Is this what he wanted? His heart hammered beneath his ribcage; his vision narrowed until all he could see was the sight before him. Is this his purpose?_

"...I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

 _It is. This feeling of emptiness is familiar to him. This is what he was trained to do. This is what he is meant to be. Hibiki Kohaku is a cold-blooded killer – someone like Kagura Mutsuki has no part in that world. Kagura made him forget that._

 _To think the Black Knight could be felled like a common hit… but Kagura did not have the right mindset to guard himself against assassins. He remembers what his family taught him: even the strongest man will fall if you can cut him once, hard, on the back of his neck. Kagura made him forget that._

 _Someone like him can never truly walk among those who live under the light. He only feels whole when he is in the shadows. He only feels right when he kills. Kagura was always too idealistic – too optimistic. His goodness choked the darkness; his kindness quelled the bloodlust. But such an arrangement can never last. Kagura Mutsuki was a good man – someone like Hibiki Kohaku has no part in that world. Kagura made him forget that._

 _But he remembers now._

 _"Captain – captain Kohaku?! What's going on here? Is that… i-is that Colonel Mutsuk – "_

 _A soldier's blood joins Kagura's and the captain's. He checks the time; it is almost midnight. He leaves the room, and the bodies, behind._

 _The world blurs, reshapes, and reforms – it becomes a massacre. Past and future slowly fade away. The present is all Hibiki can see, and it is filled with strange and grotesque faces. Only Kagura was hard to kill – the rest come much more easily. He cuts them down like blades of grass, leaving a trail of scarlet in his wake, finding and killing indiscriminately. Soon, he is covered with more blood than any of his victims. His methods become messier; they start screaming._

"Hibiki…"

 _Not that it matters. So long as he keeps moving in the shadows, nobody will be able to catch him. Stay out of fields of vision; keep yourself in constant motion; aim for the back of the neck – those early lessons as an assassin come back to him like a floodgate, and they control him like wires on a puppet. Like hands on a tool. Hibiki does not even need to think._

"Hibiki!"

 _Everything drains from him; all that is left is compulsion to kill, not out of pleasure or pain but rather a sense of necessity as natural as breathing. The room is completely dark. He is holding sticks instead of blades – presumably to keep the trainer safe – but Hibiki knows better, he knows that anything can be used to kill, that if he drives the wood hard enough into the back of the neck, they will fall and never get up again. He knows there is a place of complete darkness, a place where even shadows cannot exist –_

 _– because shadows need light –_

"Hibiki! HIBIKI!"

* * *

Hibiki wakes up with a start, covered in cold sweat. He sits upright on his bed; the clock reads 4am. There is somebody banging at the door outside – it sounds like Kagura, likely back from engaging in his favorite pastimes of drinking and being generally useless.

"Hi-bi-kiiii…! Let me in…!"

Hibiki realizes that he had locked the door, and Kagura did not have the keys. He grudgingly moves to his feet and rubs his eyes – they are moist. He touches his cheek and is surprised to find that it is also wet. Tears? Did he dream something?

"Hibiki… damn it, I'm gonna break in!"

Well… no matter. He wipes the tears away and announces that he is awake and comes to open the door, chiding Kagura once more for staying out so late. Whatever his dream was, he does not remember it now.


End file.
